The next morning found them both in a tangle of limbs and sheets. Every moment, waking or sleeping, she found herself seeking his warmth. The sunlight started shining right into her eyes, leaving her sighing and turning deeper into his chest. She liked to pretend she didn't know what she was doing, like maybe if he thought she was still sleeping he wouldn't mind her curling into him. He didn't seem to mind at all, beside her he was still breathing deep and even.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she wandered where the line was drawn in their odd relationship. She slept in his bed, so what restrictions there were, if any, was unclear. She fit right into him with her tiny frame tucked under his arm. Her head rested on the mattress, inches from his chest. Fingers clutched the blanket over her, pulling it tighter against her frame. Her muscles screamed in protest at even the slightest movement she made. The motion brought her fingers dangerously close to his chest, one inch closer and she would have brushed him. Hard muscle against the cool tips of her fingers. She considered it, if only for a second, she wondered what he would do. Slowly, her fingers crept towards him, but she stopped just short of his chest.
Since her face was so close she picked up the change in his breathing that meant he was already awake. Blinking a few times, she opened her eyes but refused to move. She was too warm, too relaxed and too interested by the thoughts of running her hands along his chest. The night had passed with no episodes, no waking up screaming, nothing. There had been flashes of nightmares, but they had easily slipped away. Daryl moved beside her so she pulled the covers over her head, turning away from him and curling back into a ball.
"Mornin'" His deep rumble found her where she was hiding under blankets.
"No." She mumbled. Every part of her body hurt, even her toes. How they hurt, she had no idea, but they did. Maybe she had overdone it the other day, maybe she was dying. Dying sounded like it might be possible from the sheer amount of pain she was in.
"Yah ain't hungry?" He asked. The mattress dipped under his movement and she took the chance to peek out from under the blanket only to see him turning from his side to his back.
"No." It was a lie. She was sure he heard it in her voice, but the thought of getting out of this bed, even to eat was too painful.
"You sure?"
"Everything hurts." She whined into the darkness that she had created under his blankets. Body twisting, she felt the tightness in her legs and back.
Downstairs, a pounding on the door had her poking her head out from under the blankets again. Beside her, Daryl got up and got dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt before he moved to find out who was there. Pandora refused to move, besides it was probably for him anyway. Pulling the blankets back over her head, she hunkered back down into the warm darkness.
"Rosita hey," That surprised her, so she eased herself out from under the blankets to stand at the open door. The top floor had a small space that was open to below from the bedroom so you could look right down at the front entrance.
"I'm here for Pandora." Rosita was moving now, Pandora watched her coming to the bottom of the steps. She tried to step back into the bedroom, but she was too slow. "I can see you there, let's go."
Pandora stepped out of the doorway dressed in a pair of shorts and tank top, "I haven't eaten yet."
"Whose fault is that?" The smaller woman snapped, hand on her hip. Her tone was light, but there was some underlying tension in her voice. "Eat and meet me by the solar panels in a half-hour."
Turning to Daryl, Rosita flashed him a wicked smile, "I'll turn her into a fighter yet." With that, she left, shutting the door with a little more force than Pandora deemed necessary.
"Fuck." Pandora muttered under her breath as she lumbered back to her own room to get dressed. Standing at her dresser, she tried to find something that she could wear to get her ass kicked. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to get her ass handed to her. Whatever happened last night had Rosita on edge, no way Pandora was getting off easy today.
She finally found of pair of green fitted pants, a type of spandex material she was almost surel. She found a long-sleeved shirt too, one that would cover the darkening bruise on her upper arm from the other day. Finally, she pulled a brush through her hair, collecting it all into a bun on the top of her head. Every movement was painful, every lift of her arm and motion of her leg sent tugging pains through her.
Down in the kitchen Daryl was frying some eggs in a pan, two plates piled with mixed veggies on the counter was waiting for her when she came down. Pandora didn't sit, fearing she might not get up again. Instead, she tried to stretch out her muscles while she waited. Reaching down, she touched her toes and started wiggling them in the process.
"You know," She commented to his turned back, lunging deep in a warrior stretch in the kitchen. "If you didn't think it was a good idea for me to train today you could say so."
At the stove Daryl laughed, shaking his head, "Naw you did this to yourself, you live with it."
"Fine," She huffed, reaching up and stretching her arms above her head. With every stretch, the pain lessened so she pushed herself to stretch a little harder. "If I die today, I hope you feel really bad."
Another snort as he slid an egg onto one of the plates before handing it to her, "Shut up and eat."
Groaning, she ate standing, downing the bottle of water he put in front of her. It was good, she mused, wondering if he made this hash on his own too. Though she doubted it. Just because he could hunt like no one else in Alexandria, cooking was not his strength. Finishing, she moved to the sink to get started cleaning up. He was already done just as quickly, side-stepping around her to get in front of the sink.
"Go on, Ah'll wash up." He looked at her through the strands of hair in his eyes. "Ride with me later?"
"Sure, if I'm not dead." She replied, giving his arm a light squeeze. She would be lying if she said she hadn't thought of leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek, just to show him how glad she was he came back. The moment played behind her eyes too. How she would slide up beside him, palm flat on his chest and pressing a kiss to his cheek. In the next heartbeat the moment was gone and she was back standing there in the kitchen, unmoving. Daryl cleared his throat, drawing her attention back up to his face which was what got her moving again out the door.
Rosita was waiting just where she said she would be waiting, by the solar panels. On the ground in front of her, two long knives lay in the grass. When Pandora saw them, she stopped. Weapons training was not something she thought would be happening.
"Um, knives?" She asked, touching the one closest to her with the toe of her shoe. Wolves always had knives, little knives for leaving tiny cuts on flesh and big ones for killing. A phantom blade ran itself along her hip bone, she shivered. Shaking fingers brushed the spot, feeling for the scar that she was sure still lingered there.
"You want to stop feeling like a victim, you learn how to fight."
That made Pandora stiffen slightly. Weapons were something she had already had some experience with. Being in the army, her Dad had always made sure that they could shoot so her aim was great. When shit hit the fan, he had given them knives. She could see it now, almost like she was there: her dad banging against the car to draw the dead, calling out instructions as she and her sister chopped through rotted skulls.
What would he think if he could see her now, broken and unwilling to even step outside most of the time . Would he think she was weak? Would he scoff and tell her to get a grip? Part of her imagined he would. She imagined he would sit her down and tell her that enough was enough, if she didn't take control now then she was better off walking into the woods. Harsh love was always his thing.
"Pandora?" Rosita was in front of her, snapping her fingers in fine tuned impatience. "You keep zoning out like that you're gonna end up dead."
Rolling her eyes, Pandora jumped at the other woman, catching her off guard and knocking her feet out from under her. Rosita lay on her back whooping with laugher. The morning continued a little different, she didn't get the upper hand on Rosita often. Her body screamed at her with every movement which Rosita noticed, but refused to slow her pace. A few times Pandora came out ahead, using her agility to get out of holds and locks. They had worked with the weapons too, but Pandora wasn't bad with weapons, hand to hand was her problem.
By the end of the session they both lay in the soft grass gasping for air. Blood from her nose was drying under the sun, she hadn't been fast enough when Rosita had delivered a punch. She hadn't minded the pain in her face as it was blocking out the pain in the rest of her body, so that was good.
"You got better already." Rosita commented, turning her head to the side to look at her.
"That's good, at least one thing is getting better." Her arm covered her eyes now, shielding them from the rays of the sun. It was warmer now, sun tickling the patches of exposed skin.
"I heard about the other night."
Pandora laughed suddenly then, stopping to groan and hold her sides from the pain that laughing caused. "You heard about it, or you heard me?" She finally said when she had recovered enough to speak.
Rosita only sighed before standing, "I guess we heard each other."
The tone in her voice made Pandora scramble up from the ground to catch her before she left. She was a little too slow because Rosita already had her back to her.
"Rosita!" She called, straining forward to catch the other woman's wrist. "If you ever want to talk, I'm here."
For a second, she was sure she was going to get a snarky remark in return so she steeled herself against it. Instead, she watched as Rosita's face softened slightly. Her heart did an odd tap dance at seeing that moment of vulnerability.
"Thank you," Rosita responded. Pandora watched her turn to leave but she stopped. "Listen, the same goes for you alright? Why don't you come over for dinner?"
The offer shocked her into a moment of silence. Everyone here had accepted her as part of the group, albeit some slower than others. Before, not many of them felt like her friends but now it was changing.
"I'd like that," Pandora answered with a smile. "That is, if I haven't died from the pain."
Rosita laughed, turning to leave. Pandora watched her go, stretching out the last few knots from her muscles. When Rosita's form had faded around the corner, Pandora began moving. Her steps were slower of course, muscles reminding her that they were indeed in pain. Each step was slower and slower, the constant movement had loosened them when she had been training, but now they were beginning to tighten all over again. Reaching the end of her street, she had to stop to rest against another house.
"Fuck." She muttered. Moving her hands, she tried to rub out some of the stiffness in her thighs. Under her skin, the muscles were pulled tight, coiled like snakes.
"Pandora? Everything ok?"
Glancing up, she found her eyes meeting the concerned face of Morgan. Instantly, she went stiff, blood in her veins turning ice-cold. She hadn't interacted much with this man, he was too vocal about not needing to kill for her liking. She still hadn't forgotten what he had done, what he tried to do. Her hands stopped mid-rub, peeling away from her sore legs and curling into fists.
"Fine." She bit off the end of the word, straightening up to leave. Rage bubbled under the surface, she couldn't do this, not with this man. Not with her nightmares so fresh in her mind, images still burning behind her eyes.
"Pandora wait." She was already half turned away from him when he said this.
Blinking, she looked at him, brown eyes meeting her own. She didn't want to stand here with him. She knew what he was, this man Morgan was not one of them. He didn't belong here. He had tried to save a wolf, tried to save a man who had helped take almost everything from her.
"Morgan," Her voice was a deep growl now, a habit she was picking up from Daryl. "Don't."
"Pandora, please." He stepped towards her, she was quick though, putting up her hands and taking two steps back. Her brain screamed for more distance between them. He didn't stop speaking though, only raised his hands as a sign of peace. "You have to understand, we don't have to kill. There are other choices."
"No there aren't!" She nearly screamed. "You kill monsters like him, Morgan! You don't keep them as pets!"
"I was a monster once. I had blood on my hands, as did Rick and Daryl."
"No!" She tried to remember to be calm, tried to breathe through the rage but it was all-encompassing. He didn't get to say his name, didn't get to act like Daryl was anything like him. Her mind's eye flashed with his face, a W carved into his forehead and rotten toothed smile. Phantom fingers tickled up her arms, causing her to try and shake them away. "You don't understand Morgan! And if you stopped preaching for one fucking second you would. A man like him doesn't deserve to live." She was screaming at him now, unable to stop herself. Still, he stood there unmoving, watching her.
She couldn't take it, couldn't stand that look on his fucking face. Like he knew something she didn't. He didn't know shit, not about this, not about her. The steps she took back to her house were quick, fueled by her rage. In front of her, the door swung open with a bang racing past Rick and Daryl in their kitchen, she headed for her room.
Dimly, she thought she heard someone call her name, but she didn't stop until the door to her room was slamming shut behind her. Spinning around, she reached for a pillow, holding to tight to her face she screamed into it. Sometimes that was the only way she felt like she could get her anger under control. The scream tore through her until her throat and chest burned with the force of it. Finished, she pulled the pillow from her face to gasp for air.
"Pan?" Daryl's voice came from the other side of the door, laced slightly with worry.
"I'm fine!" Her answering shout was too loud, too rushed to make it believable. The door knob moved slightly as if he was laying his hand on it. "I'm going to shower." That was better, calmer and more controlled. Breathe in two, breathe out two, the voice in her head calmly delivered the instructions. She gave no time for him to change his mind about coming in as she was in the bathroom locking the door behind her.
In the mirror, her eyes were wide and her face flushed with rage. She pulled the hair tie from the end of her hair, undoing the bun and running her fingers through the tangled waves. Rage still coiled deep in her gut but she tried to ignore it. Instead, she focused on the burning pain in her muscles, tensing and releasing them group by group. Everything hurt but it was kind of a dull pain now, it meant she was getting used to it.
Stepping into the shower, the water was hotter than it should be. But the scalding heat kept her grounded, shocking her body into the present moment. The fight with Morgan had shaken the deep calm she tried to keep. The man infuriated her to no end with his 'every life is precious' bullshit. It was just that, bullshit. Some lives were worth saving, but the number got smaller and smaller as the days went buy.
By the time Pandora was dressed, the rage had simmered down to a mild annoyance. The annoyance was low enough for her to be able to function. Back in her room, there was a tug and tightness in her muscles with every movement. Turning, she rummaged through her nightstand to find a long forgotten bottle of painkillers. Popping it open, she swallowed them dry and for a brief moment she thought about laying in her bed until the pills kicked in.
The sound of footsteps downstairs were a reminder that Daryl must be waiting around for her. Standing in the middle of her room, she heaved a sigh before heading for the door. The second she opened the door, the sound of the footsteps stopped.
"Pan?" His voice floated up from the kitchen where he must have been pacing.
"Coming." Unable to help herself, she picked up the pace towards him. Despite the stiffness in her body, she was in the kitchen before she knew it. He wasn't a monster, how could anyone look at him and say he had once been a monster?
The kitchen was empty though, and she found him lounging on the sofa in the living room. He was spread out feet on the table in front of him trying, and failing to look calm. Turning, their eyes made contact and for a second she stopped, frozen in her spot by his gaze. Heat travelled up her neck, she could feel the redness in her cheeks.
"Yah alright?" Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
With the moment shattered she lowered herself down onto the sofa beside him, she curled into herself, pulling her knees up to her chest. The action stretched out her muscles, easing some of the cramping she was feeling. He was a furnace like always, heat leaching into her muscles softening them. She craved it, craved his warmth like a good drug.
"I ran into Morgan on the way home." The sentence was quite void of emotion and she took a small moment to be proud of herself for that. Beside her, he stiffened, "He isn't dead, so that's a good thing."
His chuckle vibrated through her, and she smiled, leaning her head onto his shoulder now. Her stomach twisted in knots, unease deep in her bones.
"Are we still going for a ride?"
"Yah want to?"
"Yes please." For once she was eager to take a ride outside the walls. She could really use the time to clear her head. Wind rushing past her always seemed to wipe her mind clear of any lingering thoughts. It had been some time since Daryl had the bike taken, and she had to admit that she missed the rides they would take.
"Alright, get ready then meet me outside." Daryl was up then, heading for the front door.
Pandora knew that he wouldn't wait long so she left, scrambling from the couch to her room, savouring the pain-free movements she was able to make. In her room, she grabbed a light jacket for herself, rushing into Daryl's rooms and getting a jacket for him as well.
In his room, she stopped for a moment to look around at his bedroom. Dirty clothes littered almost every corner of the room. She made a mental note that she needed to get some of their clothes washed as she headed out to the meet him outside.
Clearly, she had taken too long because when she stepped out into the street, Daryl was already out in the road, bike idling under him. A wide grin spread over her face as she slipped onto the seat beside him without waiting to make sure she was holding on, they took off.